


I Never Planned on You

by thesirenserenity



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Musical Theater, F/M, Fluff, Getting Together, Hunk does the set design, M/M, Pidge does sound and lights, Pidge is so snarky, SO MUCH FLUFF, Shiro and Allura are actors, Stage Manager Keith, actor lance, lots of musical theater jokes and quotes, mucial theater au, newsies au, so does Matt!, sorta??, they are putting on newsies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-26 21:13:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16688935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesirenserenity/pseuds/thesirenserenity
Summary: Lance is back from college for the summer and auditioning for Castle of the Lions Theater's (CLT) summer production of Newsies. It's his dream role and dream show, and he just can't wait! He never planned on finding someone who can read him so easily, who wants to know who he is.Keith is the newest (and best) Stage Manager for CLT's biggest community theater production yet. He got roped into this by his brother and found he had a knack and love for it. He never planned on finding a friend group or falling for the actor on stage who captures his heart.





	I Never Planned on You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PrincexofxFlowers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincexofxFlowers/gifts).



> HAPPY BIRTHDAY FRIENDMATE!!!!!  
> I hope you have a lovely day celebrating your birth and the BEST year yet! Thank you for being my other half and the bestest friendmate ever. I LOVE YOU. 
> 
> For everyone else, enjoy a fluffy, cheesy, Musical Theater AU!

_Wrongs will be righted_  
If we're united  
Let us seize the day

* * *

 

Lance took a deep breath, staring at the doors to the theater. 

 

This was it. 

 

This is what he has trained his whole life for. 

 

All those dance lessons, gymnastics lessons, private singing lessons (coupled with belting show tunes in the car), and acting classes have lead to this moment. 

 

His favorite show, his dream role! 

 

The best theater company in the city, no, the state! 

 

Working with the best actors, many who went on to get into the most amazing performing arts colleges, to Broadway even!

 

He could do this. 

 

This was it. 

 

* * *

 

Keith rolled his eyes at all the people lining up in the lobby. 

 

He knew that he was supposed to be helping organize the crowd but… 

 

People. Ugh. 

 

His clipboard dug into his side as he observed all the hopefuls sizing each other up, making weird-ass noises to keep their voices warm, being rude to all the volunteers organizing them. 

 

What was with theater people and being petty assholes? 

 

Shiro, his brother, was nothing but nice. Coran, the director, was even nicer! But everyone else? 

 

Bitches. All of them. 

 

Pretentious bitches, posturing and prideful. People like that bugged him. 

 

They mixed up being confident and being a complete dick. Allura was confident! Shiro was confident! But being a good actor and knowing it does not mean you can mouth off to those running the show. 

 

He rolled his eyes again and marked down another number of a person being a dickwad to one of the volunteers. If they were professional actors, they would know better than to assume that one of those running the show wasn’t watching; no one wants to cast a jerk. 

 

Keith tore his eyes from the crowd and the line in front of him and peaked into the door to see if Coran, the choreographer, and the vocal director were ready. Coran gave him a large nod, grin, and thumbs up. 

 

Here goes nothing. 

 

Keith shook his head and threw open the doors of the auditorium. 

 

He watched the throng of people stream in, audition papers and sheet music and phones with tracks clutched in their hands. They pushed and shoved, vying for the best seats for the open audition. The auditionees searched to find their number section, and all the parents, observers, and auditionees who were later in the day found an open seat. 

 

Keith didn’t understand why open auditions were a thing for Castle of Lions Theater, but Alfor, the owner, insisted; something about CLT being a supporting program, whose goal was to provide quality entertainment through theater and foster a community of education and growth. If the actors didn’t learn to support and cheer for each other from the beginning, then they would never learn. 

 

But it was a pain in the ass for the Stage Manager who had to run the auditions. 

 

Coran, who was directing the show, hit the stage with a microphone in hand and gestured to Pidge, who was in the tech booth. 

 

Keith wished he was hiding up there in the booth with them, but no. He had to go collect audition forms and sheet music and music tracks, giving them to the respective runners for the tech booth or director’s table, and then make sure the auditionees were in the right order to go on stage. 

 

Ugh. People. 

 

And this is why he was not an actor. 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Welcome to the auditions for Newsies!” 

 

The director’s voice cut through Lance’s heart. He was here! 

 

Well, kind of. He had his number and all the forms and such ready, but his audition wasn’t until later in the evening, after the break. And so he was hiding out in the tech booth with Pidge, who was currently running sound. 

 

He leaned over and squeezed the hell out of Pidge’s arm. “So nervous,” he said through gritted teeth. 

 

She slapped Lance’s hand away, “Hands off while I’m working! You know that.” 

 

Lance flopped over in the spinny chair, leaning against Pidge’s shoulder. “This is my dream show! My dream role! You know that.” 

 

“So dramatic,” Pidge rolled her eyes. 

 

Lance looked up at her, flicking her glasses, “That’s my job, nerd!” 

 

“Just pay attention to Coran’s instructions!” 

 

Lance huffed, “He is just going to repeat them for everyone after the break. Besides I’ve been with CLT for a couple shows, I know how this works.” 

 

Pidge raised an eyebrow at him, “But I thought this was your dream show, so you should soak up every minute!” 

 

Lance went to snark back, but Pidge shoved a finger in front of his mouth. Lance had been in the box enough to know that meant that she was getting something over the head seat she always wore. 

 

Pidge’s finger went to the button on her cargo shorts, “Copy that, Keith. I’ll look for the first batch of music tracks. Thanks for labeling them for me.” Then she took her finger away from Lance’s mouth. 

 

“Keith?” Lance inquired. 

 

Pidge’s attention was back on the stage in front of them, one hand on the laptop to her right and the other on the soundboard in front of her. 

 

“Shiro’s younger brother? I’m sure you’ve seen him at shows. Plus, I’ve told you about him before.” 

 

Lance’s eyes narrowed. Shiro was an acting god, the best of the best in CLT, and his hero. He was a Junior at the best acting college in the state: the Garrison Performing Arts Conservatory. Lance had auditioned for their musical theater program last year but hadn’t gotten in. The directors had invited him to get more experience and try out again as a transfer in a couple years, so Lance had gone to a different community conservatory in a town a couple hours away this past year with Hunk, his best friend, who was going to school for set design. Both of them would be returning as Sophomores at the end of this summer, but Lance was going to audition again for the Garrison this next year for a transfer. 

 

Lance had heard little of Keith’s acting, only that he and Pidge had been hanging out. Did he take over the lead roles at CLT while Lance was away at college?

 

His eyes narrowed, and he turned to Pidge to inquire further about his new rival for the stage.

 

The door behind them creaked open and Hunk popped his head in with a handful of audition sheets for Pidge. 

 

“Here ya go, bud!” Hunk cheered, handing the pile to Pidge, who had put her hand up over her chair to grab. Pidge immediately went through, confirming that the line-up in their playlist was the same with those on the audition sheets. 

 

“Thank god our esteemed Stage Manager had the foresight to put people who need the live accompanist for the first couple slots,” Pidge mumbled. 

 

“Hunk!” Lance whisper-shouted, throwing himself at his best friend. “Today is the day and I’m so nervous and there are so many people here and what if I don’t get my dream role and what if I completely screw up and what if my pants fall down on stage and what if….” 

 

“Whoa, there buddy!” Hunk interrupted, pushing Lance back a bit so he can look in the boy’s worried face. “We had this conversation last month, and last week, and last night at like two A.M.! You’re going to get up on stage and do your best! And then let the directors take care of the rest. Even if you don’t get your dream role, just keep pushing forward and I’m sure there will be other opportunities. Newsies is a super popular show and will be produced many times in your acting career.” 

 

“I know…” Lance whined, slipping into his friend’s offered embrace. “I just don’t want to botch this when I’m trying to get into the Garrison. You know how much they love CLT shows…” 

 

Hunk scoffed, “We all know you are going to get into this show, and with the audition line-up, you know they are gonna make cuts. So even you being in the show will be enough!” 

 

“But Hunk…” 

 

“Shut it, fuckfaces. I’m trying to work!” Pidge interjected. 

 

“Sorry, Pidge!” Hunk cried. He gave Lance one last quiet hug and pushed him back into the office chair, despite Lance’s protests. Winking at him, Hunk slipped quietly from the tech booth, going back to help run audition forms. 

 

Lance huffed and turned back to the stage to scope out the competition. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

When Coran announced the break, Keith thought he might fall over in relief. He put up a hand to the auditionees who were trying to talk to him and walked away to find quiet. They had all the instructions and information sent to them for auditions via email prior, as well as Coran’s announcement before auditions started. He was not going to deal with people who didn’t know how to listen to instructions during his break. He was good at putting up a friendly front when needed, but the incompetency of some of these auditionees were driving him up a wall. 

 

No, he did not know how the directors selected people for callbacks. Yes, all your tracks were in order and taken care of if you sent them in ahead of time. No, he could not move you forward in an audition. Yes, just check your damn email. 

 

Keith escaped out the back door and took the stairs two at a time to the sound booth. He pulled off his headset, set his phone to go off so he could give a warning before the break was over, and set down his supplies on the small side table before the door to the sound booth. 

 

Running his hands through his hair to get rid of the knots that came from wearing a headset, he pulled open the door. 

 

And came face-to-face with the prettiest dark blue eyes he has ever seen. 

 

Keith gasped, almost running into the stranger, and then took a step back to avoid falling on his ass. 

 

The stranger had less luck, tripping over the carpet change and stumbled into Keith’s chest. Naturally, Keith caught the boy; he wasn’t rude and it was a normal reaction. Those pretty blue eyes were staring into his own then, looking up at him. They were surrounded by long, dark lashes and tanned skin. Keith pulled back a little, taking in the boy’s whole face, a stunning face. 

 

Keith froze up, having a bit of a mental breakdown. 

 

Pretty boy! In his arms! 

 

Then, the boy grinned widely, a smooth voice emerging from his mouth. “Well, it seems I’ve fallen for you!” 

 

Keith felt his face heat up. 

 

“I… what? You… what?” Keith stammered, flustered. 

 

The boy stepped out of his arms and stood to his full height, smiling down at him. 

 

Pidge’s face popped around the doorframe of the sound booth, “Ah, Lance. I see you’ve meet Keith.” 

 

The (very attractive) boy, who Keith figured was Lance, seemed to stiffen up. “Keith? Shiro’s brother?” 

 

Keith rolled his eyes. Of course, that is what he is known for here. “Yup. That’s me.” 

 

Now the boy was glaring at him? That was a weird response. Flirting to glaring in no time flat. 

 

This Lance person took two steps forward and jammed his finger into Keith’s chest. “Now listen here, bud. Just because you are the brother of one of the best actors here, doesn’t mean that you automatically get parts. I know I was gone for a year, but I’m still going to kick your ass!” 

 

Keith’s eyes narrowed, “What the hell, man? What do you have against Shiro?” 

 

Lance scoffed, “Shiro? That man is practically my hero!” 

 

“Then what’s your problem!” 

 

“What’s your problem!” 

 

Keith crossed his arms over his chest, “I have no problem, you weirdo. You’re the one who is all up in my face.” 

 

He made eye contact with a very amused Pidge who was watching, leaning against the doorway of the tech booth. 

 

“Lance,” Pidge interjected, “You know that Keith is the Stage Manager, right? He isn’t auditioning, you dingbat.” A very large smirk was on her face. 

 

Keith sighed, finally understanding. This dickwad thought he was auditioning and would be competition because he was Shiro’s younger brother. Of course. 

 

He watched Pidge’s comment sink into Lance, his demeanor growing more flustered. 

 

“No! What… Stage Manager?” The boy’s face grew red.

 

Keith rolled his eyes, “Yes, I’m your Stage Manager. Any other enlightening things to realize?” 

 

Lance glared at him, “Yea, your hair is stupid, mullet.” And with that he brushed passed Keith, bumping shoulders with him and stormed down the stairs. 

 

Keith threw his hands up in the air and looked at Pidge in exasperation, who was cracking up. Keith mimicked Lance and stormed passed Pidge into the sound booth, and sat down in the office chair, pouting. 

 

Pidge was still cracking up and had sunk to the floor of the doorway. 

 

Keith mumbled, “That was not part of my break plan.” 

 

Pidge wiped a tear from her eye, finally standing up and leaning on the doorway for support. “That was so amazing. He got so defensive!” 

 

“Yea, it was stupid.” 

 

Pidge looked over at him, a smile on her lips, “You’re just mad cause he said your hair was stupid.” 

 

“My hair is not stupid,” Keith grumbled. 

 

Pidge walked back over to her seat, ruffling Keith’s hair along the way. Keith glared up at her as she sat down in the other chair. 

 

Keith crossed his legs in the chair and huffed. “What the fuck was his deal? I literally caught him from falling flat on his face, and he insulted me for being Shiro’s brother.” 

 

Pidge sighed, “You can’t blame Lance. He is just super nervous. He’s been away for a year at college and this is his dream show. He really just wants to get one of the leads and is super competitive. He thought you were a rival competitor because you’re Shiro’s brother.” 

 

Keith rolled his eyes but understood. Shiro got super worked up before auditions too; just last night, Shiro was having a meltdown and his best friend/not-girlfriend, Allura, had to call to calm him down. 

 

He sighed, “I get it. Shiro was the same way last night. I just don’t get why he was such a huge jerk to me.” 

 

Pidge chuckled, “He was just intimidated. He fell into your arms, flirted, found out you were his hero’s younger brother, thought you were a threat, and then was embarrassed after finding out you were his Stage Manager.” 

 

Keith blushed, “Well, he made me go through a range of emotions too.” 

 

Pidge’s eyebrows were dancing, “I’m sure, ya gay fool.” 

 

“Oh, shut the fuck up.” 

 

* * *

 

Keith was just a  _ tiny _ bit interested in the weird, flirty, annoying boy who had literally fallen on top of him earlier. 

 

Just a  _ tiny _ bit. 

 

So when he bounded onto the center of the stage and declared his name was Lance and started belting his heart out with sparkles in his eyes, Keith watched. 

 

He couldn’t take his eyes away from this jerkface when he was filling the stage. 

 

Keith’s right eyebrow raised a little bit. For how nervous Pidge said Lance was, he really couldn’t tell. He could feel the energy in the auditorium change; Lance had captured everyone’s attention. Keith could even argue that his talent and charisma on stage, while different, was on par with Shiro’s. 

 

The (amateur) Stage Manager (and secret theater nerd) in him was very impressed. 

 

Keith felt his heart clutching as Lance’s clear Tenor rose, filling the whole room with sound. There was so much passion in his words, so much energy behind every note. 

 

The final note of the song rung throughout the room, captivating everyone. Silence followed though Keith could swear he could still hear the overtones ringing. His throat was dry and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the boy who had his arms and heart flung wide on the stage, panting. 

 

Then, Lance relaxed and bowed, cueing a thunderous applause from the audience. A wide grin spread across his face, and he bowed again, winking at anyone who caught his eye. 

 

Keith felt like he could breathe again. 

 

After the audience quieted down, Coran reached for the microphone next to him to ask follow up questions. 

 

Even though Keith should really be making sure the next auditionee was ready, he still couldn’t take his eyes off stage as Lance answered ‘Ya bet I can talk in a New Yorker accent,’ with a perfect New York accent. 

 

The choreographer leaned over and took the mic from Coran, “It says that you have ballet, tap, and gymnastics experience. Can you expand?” 

 

A common question from her, but everyone gasped as Lance smirked, prepped, and spun like five times in a tight circle on one foot. He landed it, leaped into the air and touched his toes in the splits, landed that and promptly threw himself backward into a back handspring, followed by a backflip. Lance then had the audacity to land and take another bow, with the same teasing smirk on his face. 

 

Keith schooled his desire to gape into a blank face of indifference. That shit was hard! He, himself, was a trained gymnast and could execute that, but still! 

 

His eyes snapped to the choreographer, who was most definitely impressed. 

 

Fucking showoff. 

 

* * *

 

Keith pulled his gross hair into a pony, flinching at how greasy it was. But that’s what you get when you have callbacks the day after auditions. When he didn’t get home until like two am because the directors were debating about callbacks forever. When things started at nine am in the morning, which means he had to be there to set up at eight am.

 

Keith really needed another huge cup of coffee. 

 

He looked up from his clipboard to a huge cup of coffee in front of him, and his brother smiling down. 

 

“I thought you could use this since you left the house in a hurry.” 

 

Keith sighed, “Oh thank god. You have saved me!” 

 

Shiro laughed, “And I thought I was the dramatic one!” 

 

“Well, yea. But I had a serious need for caffeine and you simply knew.” 

 

Shiro shrugged, “It’s your first big show, of course you need caffeine. Plus, you live off of coffee.” 

 

Keith smirked up at him, “You know I do!” He grabbed the cup and took a large sip, moaning in pleasure. “Black, like my soul. You know how I like it.” 

 

Shiro laughed, “Of course I do, dork.” 

 

Keith observed the scared look in his eyes. “How are you doing, Shiro. Nervous?” 

 

Shiro looked away, bashfully, “A little. It’s not every day you get called back for the lead role of an amazing show.” 

 

Keith scoffed, “Okay, yea. But that shit happens to you like four times a year, and you knew this was going to happen. You’re an amazing actor.” 

 

“You have to say that, you’re my brother.” 

 

“I’m just stating a fact, you dingbat.” 

 

Allura came up behind Shiro and threw an arm around him. Her sweet voice rang through the room, “I’m not your brother, and I say you’re an amazing actor.” 

 

Shiro had the audacity to blush, but that was probably because his longtime crush had an arm around him. 

 

Keith rolled his eyes. They were both so oblivious. 

 

Shiro stuttered, “You’re… You’re my best friend, you also are biased.” 

 

Allura’s arms encircled Shiro’s waist, her chin propped on his shoulder. “We have worked together in so many productions. I think I can say you are a good actor without being biased as your best friend.” 

 

“And you are going to work together in another one, once again,” Keith stated. “Now go crowd around the callback list like normal hopeful actors!” 

 

Allura grinned and fist-bumped Keith, “And get our dancing shoes on!” 

 

“Break a leg, guys!” Keith added, to their retreating backs. He took another large sip of his coffee and muttered, “Oblivious idiots.” 

 

He ran his hand over his face, set down his coffee, and picked back up his clipboard, turning to face the quickly filling room of hopefuls. 

 

A loud noise drew Keith’s attention to the door. Pidge came bursting through the door, bounded around the table, and jumped onto Keith, wrapping her arms and legs around him. Keith bent his legs to accommodate the impact and just sighed. 

 

“Good morning, motherfucker!” Pidge shouted. 

 

“You’re lucky I put my coffee down before you jumped on top of me, ya little brat.” 

 

“Pidge!” 

 

Both of them looked up at the outburst, turning their heads to the two boys walking up to the table. Keith recognized Hunk, who was working on set design, from yesterday. Though he didn’t need to be present for much of his work, Keith figured that he really just enjoyed helping out around the theater and being with his friends. After all, he is the epitome of sunshine. 

 

Lance, who had literally fallen on top of him yesterday and insulted his hair (and who’s eyes haunted his dreams), stormed up to Keith and his leech with a threatening finger out. 

 

“There are children here!” he chided, “You can’t just shout ‘motherfucker’ in front of them.” 

 

“I can name seven times when you said ‘fuck’ in front of your little siblings in the past year, and you weren’t even in town for the majority of it,” Pidge deadpanned. 

 

“It doesn’t count when it’s after I stub a toe, you buttnugget!” Lance countered. 

 

“Still got chewed out by your mother, fuckface.”

 

Keith sighed, figuring he should intervene. He ran his and down his shoulder, pushing Pidge’s face, trying (and failing) to dislodge her from his body. 

 

“Pidge, as the stage manager, I really can’t condone you shouting curse words in front of children . . .” 

 

“See!” Lance interrupted, “Even mullet agrees with me!” 

 

Keith shot a glare at him and then continued, “But as your friend, I say, ‘Good fucking morning to you too’ Now get the fuck off me.” 

 

“Language, mullet!” Lance gestured wildly at the children all the way across the room.

 

“I do not have a mullet! And my hair is up!” 

 

Hunk sighed and intervened, “I see you’ve met Lance, Keith.” 

 

Pidge, still clinging to Keith, interjected, “And he somehow managed to flirt and then piss off someone who sits in with the directors during casting, like an idiot.” 

 

That shut Lance up. 

 

Hunk nudged him, “Come on, bro. Try again.” 

 

Lance sighed and then held out his hand, “Hello stage manager, who I’ve never met before. My name is Lance, it's  _ fantastic _ to finally meet you.” 

 

Hunk raised an eyebrow at the sarcasm, but let it go. 

 

Keith was willing to play along. “Pidge, darling,” which earned him a scathing look, “I need my right arm.” He was hoping that Pidge would finally jump off, but instead, she just climbed around his back and latched herself onto his left side. 

 

Keith just rolled his eyes and continued, offering his right hand to Lance. “It’s nice to meet you too, I’ve heard a lot about you and Hunk from this koala here.” 

 

Keith ignored the tingle that shot up his arm when his hand touched the soft, warm hand of the other guy. Be still, gay heart. 

 

“We’ve heard a lot about you too and are excited to get to know you this summer!” Hunk grinned at him. “We should hang out soon, outside of all this jazz.” 

 

“And all that Jazz!” Lance shout-sang, accompanied with vigorous jazz hands. 

 

Keith could feel Pidge huffing against his shoulder. 

 

Hunk just grinned and gave his own little jazz hands. 

 

And Keith hid his amusement behind a neutral face and an eyebrow raise. 

 

“On that note, pun intended, I am going to go warm-up and check the callback list!” Lance shot finger guns. “Bye Pidgeon, bye bro-of-my-heart, bye mullet!” 

 

“Break a leg, man!” Hunk called after his retreating back. 

 

Keith just signed and turned to look at his leech. “Pidge, seriously. Get the fuck off me, I have to do my job.” 

 

“Watch your fucking language,” Pidge mumbled into his shirt and just climbed to his back, clinging on by herself. 

 

Keith rolled his eyes, and picked up his coffee and fallen clipboard, handing a pencil over his back for Pidge to hold. This was nothing new for him. 

 

Hunk laughed at them, “I’m glad to see that I’ve been replaced as the human jungle gym while I was gone. Good to know your habits haven’t changed, Pidge. Though, I don’t know how long Keith can do his job with you as a backpack.” 

 

“About as long as you can, Keith lifts and shit,” his ‘backpack’ answered. 

 

Hunk nodded in approval, “Nice, man. I know how hard it is to be Pidge’s noble steed.” 

 

Keith chuckled, “I’m more of her mysterious, dark steed than the noble steed you are.” 

 

“Yeah, cause you’re emo as fuck,” Pidge piped in. 

 

“Watch your fucking language,” Keith parroted back. 

 

“Don’t tell me what to do.” 

 

Hunk reached out and picked up the pile of papers on the table, “All swearing and steeds aside, what can I do to help?” 

 

* * *

 

About thirty minutes later, Pidge finally got off Keith’s back and climbed up to the tech booth to run sound for dance callbacks. Keith was still in the now-quiet atrium, sitting down for a moment. 

 

Finally, some goddamn peace and quiet. 

 

He could hear the choreographer teaching the dance for the callbacks over her mic and spurts of what he thought was “Seize the Day,” but he wasn’t positive. 

 

Pulling his trusty clipboard over to him, he looked over the day’s schedule and his neatly-printed list of what he needed to do still as he drained the cold dregs of his coffee. He glared at the cup when it came back empty. 

 

“Need me to make a coffee run?” Hunk asked, breaking the silence as he walked into the room. 

 

“I’m sure the directors wouldn’t mind, they were debating callbacks and scheduling until like two A.M.” 

 

Hunk’s eyes widened. “Seriously? That’s so late! And back here so early the next day. I will gladly make a coffee run now.” 

 

Keith grinned at him, “You will save my dead soul if you do, though we should probably give them a bit longer and collect orders in the break after dance callbacks.”

 

Hunk smiled back, “That makes sense. Anything you need me to do right now?” 

 

Keith sighed and glanced back down at his list, though he had already memorized it and was processing the best way to delegate. “Wanna keep me company while I copy down the tentative schedule in the holding room? There isn’t much to do until the general dance callbacks are over.” 

 

“You got it, my man!” 

 

They walked down the hall and through the backstage doors, to the large room that served as the secondary green room. Large sets from past productions, couches and tables, and a couple vending machines littered the room. Keith tried not to trip over some of the auditionee’s bags as he walked up to the whiteboard. 

 

“Hey Hunk, would you please go fill up a couple water coolers in the kitchen? I forgot to grab those this morning.” 

 

“I can imagine, running on less than six hours of sleep. I got you!” Hunk answered and walked out the door toward the kitchen. 

 

Keith turned back to the board and uncapped a marker. Just as he was about to write, he heard murmurs down the hall, toward the stage. Which was really weird, because everyone should be on stage during the auditions. 

 

He furrowed his brow and dropped the marker back on the holder, along with his clipboard, and went to investigate. 

 

Part curiosity, part because it was his job to make sure people were where they needed, or didn’t need, to be. 

 

He lightened his steps and snuck closer. Turning the corner, right in front of the doors that went to the back of the stage, he saw Lance kneeling in front of one of the little boys who was probably auditioning for the part of Les. He looked to be around twelve and was crying, from nerves Keith assumed. 

 

Keith turned off into one of the bathrooms nearby and grabbed a couple of tissues, and then walked up to them with purposeful steps. 

 

“You’re going to do great, Leo. I know you’re very talented and you are a natural on stage! It is totally normal to be nervous,” Lance encouraged, ducking his head down to meet the younger boy’s eyes. 

 

Keith knelt down next to Lance, meeting his eyes and offering a small smile. The little boy, Leo, looked up at him with watery eyes. 

 

“Hi bud, I’m Keith, the stage manager. Here,” he offered the tissues to him and then sat cross-legged next to him on the wall. 

 

Lance smiled at him and turned back to the boy, “Leo, you were in Oliver with Shiro, right?” 

 

Leo nodded, wiping at his eyes with a tissue. 

 

“Well, Keith is Shiro’s younger brother. Tell us, Keith, does the amazing Shiro, who has been in many, many musicals, ever get nervous?” Lance’s blue eyes were smiling at him. 

 

Keith chuckled, “You should have seen him two nights ago, before auditions. He had talked himself into a nervous wreck and almost threw up. I’ve actually seen him up-chuck before shows! Everyone gets nervous.” He hesitantly put a hand on Leo’s shoulder.

 

Lance nodded, “But what most actors learn to do is channel that nervous energy and let it fuel their acting. It helps put more energy and purpose into their words, actually.” 

 

The boy scrubbed the back of his hand over his eyes and nodded. “How do I do that, Lance?” 

 

Lance grinned, and grabbed Leo’s hand, pulling him to his feet. Keith stood on his own, using the wall as support. 

 

“First of all,” Lance said, opening his arms, “give me a hug. You look like you need one!” 

 

The kid giggled and launched himself into his arms. Lance squeezed him tight, even wrinkling up his face. 

 

Cute. 

 

“Now,” Lance continued, “Go splash your face with cold water and dry it off. Can’t have you going on stage with a red nose!” 

 

Leo bounded down the hallway to the bathroom, and Lance turned to Keith. 

 

“Thanks for helping me, man. He’s a good kid and honestly, a huge contender for Les from my humble point of view. Super sweet kid!” 

 

Keith softened at Lance’s kind expression, his fond smile, and sparkling eyes. 

 

Keith felt his lips quirk into a half-smile, “He seems like a good kid. You’re really good with him, I never would have been able to deal with that. Usually, I tell Shiro to man the fuck up and call Allura for backup.” 

 

Lance laughed, the sound making Keith smile wider, “I’m pretty sure that would not be a good way to handle a kid being nervous, mullet.” 

 

Keith’s smile folded into a glare and pout, “Stop calling me that!” 

 

Lance shrugged, a smirk on his face, turning his attention back to Leo scampering down the hallway to them. 

 

“Okay, Lance, what now?” 

 

Lance bent over so to be on the same level as Leo. “I have a super-secret technique that helps me channel my nerves, but it is really important that while we do it, you are constantly thinking positively and about channeling the energy. You got that, my man?” 

 

Leo nodded excitedly. 

 

“Okay, join us Mullet-man. This is good for stress too!” 

 

Keith scoffed, but let Lance continue to talk. 

 

“Close your eyes and stand firm on your feet. Take a moment to center yourself on those positive thoughts. Now, tense your toes…” 

 

Keith peeked an eye open and held back a giggle from the look of concentration on Leo’s face. 

 

“Feet… ankles… calves… knees… thighs… booty…” 

 

Leo giggled, like every normal twelve-year-old.

 

“Focus Leo, tense your abs… chest… shoulders… arms… fingers… neck… and your face. Hold it! Hold it!”

 

Keith was holding his breath too, his face super scrunched up. 

 

“Now release!” 

 

There was a huge burst of exhaling from all three of them as they entered back into a state of relaxation. Keith’s eyes snapped open, watching the relief and peace wash over Leo’s eyes. 

 

The kid beamed up at Lance, “I don’t feel that nervous anymore!” 

 

Lance beamed back, his eyes sparkling, “Good! It did its job then!” He offered his hand to the boy, who eagerly took it. “Let’s get back to dancing, little man. You have a call back to destroy!” 

 

Leo tugged Lance toward the door to the stage excitedly. But Lance turned around, those pretty blue eyes smiling as softly as his lips, and mouthed ‘thank you, Keith.’ 

 

They disappeared out the door too fast. Keith was rooted to the floor, his brain floundering in the image. 

 

His stomach was all fluttery, his heart beating fast. 

 

Oh, no… 

 

* * *

 

Lance felt the panic rise up in his throat, freezing up his entire body. The small bundle of nerves from that morning had finally spread.    
  
It wasn’t that he didn’t mind helping his little buddy Leo at dance callbacks. He loved spreading his wisdom and helping the kids feel more confident on stage. It was people like that who inspired him to continue acting and helped him through tough auditions or rehearsals. He had even done it without thinking, seeing the little boy burst into tears on stage from the stress, and immediately going to pull him into the back hallway.    
  
But a tiny part of him was kicking himself for his bleeding heart, because he then had an intense emotional moment since the dance combination was taught. He had missed his dance group but had still been allowed to dance with the last group, thank god for the choreographer seeing him pull Leo aside. His heart was still stuck with Leo though, and his brain wasn’t fully into the combination.    
  
Long story short, he was pretty sure he bombed the dance callbacks.    
  
For a show that highly emphasized dance.    
  
Oh god, he was screwed.   
  
Luckily, he was called back for quite a few roles and still had a chance to read and sing for them. If they really wanted his acting skills for a role, they would be willing to work with what they got on the dance callbacks.    
  
But there probably goes his chance to be Jack Kelly; his ultimate dream role.    
  
It was a couple hours after the disastrous attempt of a dance callback, and Lance was on stage in line for a reading.    
  
And he was pretty sure he was going to throw up.    
  
He was working so hard to follow exactly what he had told Leo, tensing his entire body and letting it go. He was trying to breathe through all of it. He was trying to suppress all the anxious thoughts and just let them go; they would do him absolutely no help here.    
  
Breathe. Just breathe.   
  
He could feel his eyes glass over, his breathing becoming ragged. He stumbled through a passage of an exchange with some random girl and plowed his way to the back of the line, mentally smacking himself.    
  
Then, a hand encircled his wrist and gave it a hard tug. Lance, naturally, tripped on his way to follow, glancing up to find glossy black hair tied into an adorable ponytail in front of him.    
  
Mullet, it was a mullet.    
  
But Lance was too far gone to protest and allowed the Stage Manager to pull him from stage and through the backstage doors, right to the very spot he had been comforting Leo a couple hours before.    
  
The warm hands pushed him down to sit on the ground, a soft murmur of “put your head between your legs,” and then the hands disappeared. A moment later, or forever later, a small paper cup of water was put in his hand.    
  
Lance lifted his face and took a sip of the water. Pretty violet eyes were staring at him. Or were they grey? He couldn’t tell.    
  
“Okay, I need you to breathe with me. Three in, hold for three, six out.”    
  
Lance followed the instructions and counting, slowly coming back to himself.    
  
He took in another deep breath and then registered that Keith was sitting cross-legged in front of him, a warm hand on his knee, anchoring him.   
  
“Oh god,” he managed to get out, and then flopped his head back between his knees in embarrassment.   
  
“Nope, just Keith here.” Lance could almost hear the teasing smirk that was probably plastered on the boy’s mouth, which contrasted with the tender thumb rubbing circles on his knee.    
  
Lance just groaned in response, gulping down more deep breaths and getting a better hold on himself.    
  
“Are you feeling a bit better now? I don’t want you to miss your reading.”    
  
Lance lifted his face up to meet Keith’s, which was twisted in concern. “Yeah, I’m feeling less like I’m going to pass out.”    
  
Keith took his hand off Lance’s knee and rose to his feet, Lance immediately missing the anchoring feeling of his warm hand. His eyes followed the movement, squeaking a bit when Keith shoved an outstretched hand by his face.    
  
“Come on, let’s get you back on stage, where you belong,” Keith said, a soft smile on his face.    
  
Lance grabbed the warm hand and allowed Keith to pull him to his feet, stumbling slightly. The warm hand encased his bicep to keep him on his feet, grey-violet eyes boring into him.    
  
“I’m okay, I promise,” Lance assured.    
  
Keith smiled at him, “Okay, as long as I’m not cleaning puke off the stage.”    
  
Lance giggled a little and smacked him, “And here I thought we were becoming friends.”    
  
Keith froze, looking at him funny, “Friends?”    
  
“What, you don’t think we can be friends?” Lance’s eyes narrowed a little bit.    
  
“No!” Keith almost shouted, his eyes blowing wide. Then he caught himself, speaking a little softer, “No, that’s not what I meant. I just figured you didn’t want to be friends with me because of our first meeting?”    
  
Lance’s heart melted a little bit, the poor boy was flustered and thought that he didn’t like him, and yet he still pulled him off stage and talked him out of the impending panic attack.    
  
He jostled their shoulders together, “Of course I want to be friends, dimwit. And ignore our first meeting, that was me just being a nervous idiot, as per usual. You’ll get used to it.”    
  
Keith looked at him in shock, taking in his words, and then his expression melted into a smirk. “I suppose I could get used to you acting like an idiot,” he teased.    
  
“Rude!” Lance smacked him on the arm, smiling.    
  
Both boys reached for the door leading backstage at the same time, but Lance swatted Keith’s hand out of the way and swept the door open for both of them with a flourish.    
  
“And Keith,” Lance stopped him in the middle of the door, Keith’s big eyes turning up to look at him, “thank you for pulling me off stage there and taking care of me. I really appreciate it.”    
  
Keith grinned up at him, “Of course, you dork. Anytime.”    
  
And with that carefree smile burned into his memory, Lance bounded back on stage where he belonged, ready to seize the day.    


**Author's Note:**

> Come scream at me on [tumblr](http://thesirenserenity.tumblr.com/)! @thesirenserenity


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